Players of the Scottish football club Celtic throw up their arms in jubilation after Stevie Chalmers, number 9, had scored their second goal in the European Cup Final match against Inter-Milan, in Lisbon, Portugal, May 25, 1967. Celtic defeated Inter 2-1. (AP Photo)

Pure, beautiful and Inventive.

The Holy Poet pens his tribute to the Lions


Pure, beautiful and Inventive.



The bronzed gods knew how to offend

Just a pub pub team from Glasgow’s east end

The men from Inter knew they could not fail

Bertie looked to Jinky in dismay

And the wee man said “But can they play?”

And the tunnel’s Celtic choir sang out Hail Hail.


Inter thought they’d just turn up

They looked the part. They’d lift the cup

They only came to Lisbon for a tan

And tanned they were by Celtic’s bhoy’s

As Lisbon’s Jungle made some noise

And the Lions roared through every football land.


A penalty!  Jim said he dived

Mazzola scored, we nearly cried

But Celtic’s been through all of this before

Big Tam rattled in our first

Then Stevie tapped in Glesga’s curse

Two – One to Celtic was the final score.


For Inter this wasn’t just defeat

It was humiliation, pure, complete

Lisbon witnessed Celtic’s sea of green

Thousands came to see their players

With each one saying a thousand prayers

And the man who brought them here was big Jock Stein.


He told Hererra this cup’s green

Won by a style he’d never seen

Pure, beautiful, inventive was his aim

Our love for him will never wane

And like The Lions that love still remains

Celtic showed the world how to play the game.


It’s been fifty years since that great game

When every Lion rose to fame

And London last night sampled Paradise

We sang and danced into the night

While The Grosvenor smiled at our delight

As The Lions brought on Celtic’s greatest prize.

Paul Colvin.